


let's talk about something serious then farm potatoes after

by Anonymous



Series: dream smp shorts [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Conversations, and techno is like lol, dream is just angy, listen ill be honest this is the same as the other fic thats like this, they're good friends your honor, theyre just talking about different shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27397999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: [the title kinda says it all]
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade
Series: dream smp shorts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001529
Comments: 2
Kudos: 142
Collections: Anonymous





	let's talk about something serious then farm potatoes after

**Author's Note:**

> like i said in the tags, i will be real, same as the other fic just slightly different shit being discussed  
> theyre also more comfortable w each other, just a lil, bc in the timeline i have in my head its like?? dream has just been hanging w techno for a bit at this point and its been a little while since the festival. like in real time prolly two weeks  
> anyways!! regarding this being in a series now, the series will just be a bunch of short things like this and the previous ones :) i don't plan on any multi-chapter things rn

“so why’d you give it to wilbur?” techno asked, sitting on the stone floor cross legged as he looked up at the other.

“give what?” dream hummed, absentminded. his long fingers were tracing the indentations in the stone wall.    


“the TNT.” 

dream paused, hand pulling away from the wall as it curled up into a fist. he was standing, still, so techno had to look up at him. the mask hid his face so techno couldn’t glean much but dream seemed sort of… bothered. 

“figured it was better it came from me, i guess,” the masked man explained, that unknowable face now turned towards techno. 

well, unknowable in a way. the pink-haired man had seen the other’s face before, in previous interactions - never for very long, he noted, and dream was always uncomfortable without it on. that was okay. he didn’t care too much. 

“came from you,” techno echoed. “yeah, alright. i’m not judgin’, by the way. just wonderin’ why you came to the conclusion it’d be a good idea.”   


“never said it was.”

“especially since it was supposed to be used to blow up manberg-”   


dream cut him off. “manbe- ugh,  _ l’manberg  _ isn’t apart of the kingdom proper. it’s of no concern to me.”   


techno snorted, a grin curling over his lips. “slipup there, huh?”   


“whatever.” 

“i thought you were helping them out to get the former l’manberg back, anyway.” 

dream huffed, finally sitting down beside techno. he was more in a crouch, to be honest, ready to spring up and run off if need be. he was always sort in positions like that, techno reflected. 

“i just don’t like jschlatt,” dream muttered. “he’s- you know him. you know what he’s doing.”

techno inclined his head. “trying to expand, gain more power. i can respect it.”

“you’re not the one who’s supposed to be in control over everything.” dream’s stare seemed disapproving even though his true expression was hidden. 

“i mean, even if i was…” techno clicked his tongue. “i still wouldn’t care so much. not like you do.”   


“i don’t care too much!” dream retorted, his voice spiking up in pitch - a little defensive?

techno let a sardonic grin crack, spreading over his face. “i mean, kinda. i wouldn’t care so long none of it is threatenin’  _ me _ . i like watchin’ the bloodshed.”

dream shifted, resting his arms on his knees. “yeah, isn’t that why you’re here in the first place? the bloodshed?”   


“ _ eeh _ , yeah, but there isn’t much of it around usually,” techno admitted. “had to make do with what happened at the festival.”   


“right, when you almost killed everyone?”   


“can you blame me, dream?”   


dream looked to the side, seeming almost contemplative. “... no.”

“that’s what i figured.” techno chuckled. “it’s- i don’t have any loyalty to anyone here, dream. i called schlatt  _ mister president _ but that was more because i wasn’t sure if i was going to be the one ending up dead, not because i was loyal to him. i was never loyal to- uh, to wilbur, and pogtopia, any of that, either.”   


“tommy thought you were,” dream pointed out, quietly. his tone almost seemed warning - there was an undercurrent of anger, almost, or something similar. maybe more agitation. 

it was controlled, though, techno barely noticed it. barely. 

“loyal to pogtopia, i mean,” dream added after a moment.

“he thought wrong,” techno drawled, trying to keep the image of tommy’s angered, betrayed expression out of his head. “he knows me just as well as wilbur does, and he still trusted me. that’s on him. why do you care?”

“never said i did.” dream shrugged. 

techno scoffed, looking down at his hands now. he was sort of tired of staring at dream - there wasn’t much point. he couldn’t read the masked man’s expression for fairly obvious reasons and he’s studied his body language for days now, since dream keeps coming around lately. he curled his hands into fists, then stretched them out, repeating the process a few times. 

“why do you keep talkin’ to me about this stuff, man?” techno murmured. “i don’t- like, i don’t  _ care _ that much, you know that. i came here for bloodshed.”   


“you came here because of wilbur,” dream countered, looking as if he was about to go on. 

techno quickly cut him off with a laugh, low and harsh. “no, i didn’t.”

dream paused. “well then who did?”   


“who do you think?” techno bit out, frowning at dream. “it was tommy.”

there was a lapse of silence. the pink-haired man looked down, picking at the loose threads of his pants. he wasn’t really sure why the other stopped talking at that - it wasn’t a secret. wilbur was never the one to get him here. it was tommy who sought him out, it was tommy who convinced wilbur to let him stay, it was all tommy. techno figured dream already knew that. but, maybe, the masked man wasn’t as omniscient as he tried to present himself as. 

techno suppressed a smirk at that thought. 

“tommy, huh…” dream mumbled. “do you think he’s going to manage to calm down wilbur in the end? for real, i mean.”

“ _ eeh _ ,” techno grunted, shrugging. “i don’t know. wilbur is- he’s off in the deep end.”   


“yeah, i- i’m kind of aware of that, techno.”   


“didn’t he tell ask you to let him be your  _ vassal _ ?”   


dream made a noise in his throat, sounding a little uncomfortable. “he did, back when schlatt first announced the festival. it was, he- that was a long night.”

“hey, speaking of the festival.” techno paused, his hands still now, no longer picking at threads. “why didn’t you come? i can’t imagine you weren’t invited.” 

“why would i want to?” dream countered. “i knew something bad was going to happen, regardless of if the TNT went off or not. and i was right. it was all a setup in the first place - schlatt had tubbo plan his own fucking  _ funeral _ .”

the bitterness and subdued anger in dream’s voice in the last sentence caught techno off guard. he wasn’t quite expecting that much emotion in the other man’s voice. maybe some - it’s been established more than a few times that dream clearly cares more than he shows about these sorts of things. 

he couldn’t blame dream for not showing up. even techno’s heart ached at the memory of the festival, at seeing tubbo so torn up, at hearing tommy’s raging and later oddly quiet voice when they all retreated to l’manberg. the whole night was just a mess, and he didn’t miss it. 

not to say he regretted shooting tubbo. techno never regretted anything he did. 

when a few minutes more had passed without a response from the pink haired man, dream went on. “i wouldn’t have shown up anyway. i don’t want to be more involved than i already am. i don’t want to be the villain again, this time.”

techno raised his eyebrows, lips quirked down. “we’re not exactly on the side of good here, dream.”   


“yeah, but…” dream shrugged flippantly. “is anyone? really, tell me someone here who is truly on the side of good here. niki and tubbo, you could argue, but.. everyone else? everyone else is easily corruptible if they aren’t already.”

techno let out a hum. “what about tommy?”

“didn’t tommy almost blow up l’manberg himself after what happened to tubbo?” dream snorted. “c’mon. i don’t blame him, if anyone is to blame here for how tommy is it’s wilbur, but that wasn’t exactly  _ good _ of him.”   


“that’s true,” techno agreed, inclining his head. “then.. yeah, i guess most of us really aren’t good, not really.”

“‘specially you.”

“well that’s a given, right?”

“oh sure.” dream let out a huff of air, his head dropping down for a minute. “given for me too, i guess.”   


techno eyed the masked man, crossing his arms. “why do you say that?”

“i don’t think i’ve been on the good side, like, this entire time.”   


techno laughed, suddenly. “oh, yeah, no. to a certain extent, yeah- no, not really. not that i’m the ultimate authority here ‘cause i’m not- i haven’t been here for all of the history.”

“thanks for the reassurance,” dream snarked, his burning gaze back on techno. “really funny, right?”

“you’re- c’mon, dream, you don’t have to be all solemn about this.”

dream was silent for a moment. “no, guess i don’t, not with you.”

“nah.” techno grinned, just a little, as he stood up. then, without thinking too much about it, he held out a hand to the masked man. “wanna help me harvest the rest of these potatoes?”

dream laughed then, more of a wheeze than a proper one as he took his hand. “yeah, techno. sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> suggestions for more one-shots like this and the others are welcome :0 espec for other povs (i really want to write one for quackity i just can't think of like.. what it should be)


End file.
